Touch by Lee Rowan

They endured the boat trip from the Calypso, rushed through the meal at the inn, lied through their teeth about the ladies of dubious reputation they'd visited, and finally clumped upstairs as though they wanted nothing more than ten hours' sleep.

Will barely had his jacket off before Davy pounced on him, driving him back against the wall like a frigate attacking a 74. His body answered his lover's urgency and they had each other's clothes off in less than a minute. Davy bent to retrieve the little jar of salve from his pocket; Will was so overcome by the sight that he simply tipped him onto the bed. Laughing, they wrestled the cork out of the jar and Will got enough of the stuff out to accomplish his purpose.

He loved the way Davy shivered when he bit that sensitive juncture where neck met shoulder. How he thrust back when Will squeezed his cock, pushing his own deep inside. How the faintest pinch on a nipple could make Davy suck in his breath like a man surfacing from deep water.

Within three minutes of entering the room, they were lying on the bed, twined together like ribbons of a maypole, breathing hard and utterly spent. With Davy's blond head tucked against his shoulder, Will closed his eyes for just a moment…

The sun was a little farther along when they awoke; Will reached for Davy again, but his lover caught his hand. "It's my turn, Will."

"What?"

"There's something I'd like to try. It went so fast..."

"But didn't you like—I thought —"

"Yes, I liked." Davy grinned and brushed his lips with a kiss. The smell of him was indescribable. "But you're taking your rank too seriously, Mr. Marshall."

"What do you mean?"

Davy sat up in bed, crossing his legs tailor-fashion. "You take the tiller...like this ..." Will gasped as Davy's fingers closed around him. "...and the next thing I know we're lying here wheezing like beached whales. Not that it isn't the activity I prefer to all others, Will, but I want the chance to touch you. To take my time. You assume an attitude like Nelson..."

Will's mind balked at the notion. "Davy, no, you don't—! You couldn't think—he and Hardy—!?"

"I don't think Lady Hamilton would stand for that, no. I'm referring to your inclination to dismiss maneuvers and  'go straight for it'."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'll show you—if you believe you can hold still for it."

"Of course I can."

"Are you sure, Will?"

The way he drew the word out it sent a thrill down Will's spine. "You have my word!"

Davy grinned. "Don't forget, then. Lie back?"

Will lay back against the pillow, amazed at the sudden pounding of his heart. He knew Davy would do nothing to harm him…but what would he do? He held his breath, mesmerized, as Davy reached out across the few inches between them. His hand seemed to move with infinite slowness…

"Will!"

He jumped guiltily. "What?"

"You're watching me!"

"Of course I'm watching you! I can't imagine what you're going to do!"

Davy sighed. "Nothing I haven't done before, for pity's sake. Would you be willing to close your eyes?"

"Why?"

"Because it's unnerving having you watch me like a rabbit with a snake." 

"Davy—!"

"Close your eyes, Will."  Davy coaxed.  "Just for a moment, and I'll do something you'll like."

He scowled at Davy with wounded dignity, but his lover only laughed. "If you act like a little boy who doesn't want to take his medicine, that's how I shall treat you," Davy said. "Only what I've got for you is much better than some nasty pill."

Will found it impossible to resist the good-natured teasing, and he knew by the sparkle in Davy's eyes that it was no empty promise. "No tickling!" he said sternly.

"Aye-aye, Mr. Marshall, sir," Davy saluted. "Eyes closed, if you please. And do try to relax."

Attempting to scowl, Will eased back down, doing his best to release the tension in his muscles. He was immediately rewarded with a kiss, quick and sweet, hardly more than a breath against his lips.

He tried to make it more; Davy drew away. Will drew in a breath, but before he could speak Davy's fingers rested on his mouth. "You have the most beautiful lips I've ever seen," Davy said, tracing the outline lightly, brushing across the lower lip. "No, no, not yet," he scolded gently as Will tried to take the fingers into his mouth.

His fingers touch moved up to his eyebrows, tracing them from nose to temple. "You have a look about you, in battle, that almost frightens me. It seems you move outside yourself, and forget you even have a body. I don't understand that kind of courage."

"It isn't courage," Will mumbled, leaning into the hand that now cradled his face. "It's terror. I can't let myself think. If I thought about what could happen to my body, I'd be frozen stiff."

"Mmm."  Both hands on his face now, and Davy leaned in for a real kiss, deep and thorough. But that was the only contact; though he could sense Davy's warmth and closeness with the rest of his body, the only reality was the mouth on his, the hands in his hair. He usually closed his eyes when they kissed; he supposed Davy did, too, but this was different somehow, more intense.

Davy stopped for breath, and sat back again, breaking the connection.

"Are you finished?" Will asked hopefully.

A merry laugh was not the answer he'd hoped for. "I've hardly begun!" Those warm hands ran lightly down his arms. "Mine, all mine!"

Will groaned, the sound drawing out as Davy stroked back up, along the collarbone, and spread his fingers to draw them down Will's chest, just skirting his nipples. "Davy—!"

"I don't expect you're going to let me do this too often," Davy said. He planted a wet kiss on Will's chest and cooled it with a breath, "So I'm going to make the most of it."

Will felt goosebumps rise all over his body, the shivers blending with the tingle rising in his groin. Davy's hands were at his hipbones now, and once again he avoided the part that most wanted to be touched. The part that was getting harder than it had ever been, and how was he supposed to lie still for this?

Davy shifted, straddling him, one hand on either side of his waist. Will felt a soft weight brush his left leg, and a soft breath on his right nipple. Then a lick—just one.

"Davy, for pity's sake—!"

"Patience, Will."  He did take pity on him with another kiss, and Will could tell from the taste of Davy's mouth that he was not alone in his state of arousal.

But yet again Davy broke off the kiss, and nuzzled along the side of Will's neck. "Do you know you have different scents?" Davy inquired, raising shivers again with the whisper. "Here behind your ear...and by your arms... Will, would you move your arms out a bit?"

Will did, and Davy drew a deep breath like a scenthound seeking a trail. "It's different here...and down here..."  He slid down Will's chest, rubbing his face against the skin as though he'd been changed into a big cat. "Oh, down here...hmm."

"What?"

"Just a moment." 

Davy shifted away, and Will could tell from the way the straw rustled that his lover had got completely off the bed. "Are you finished now?"

"No. Just a moment."  There were a few indistinct splashes, then the rattle of an iron in the fireplace. "It's too chilly in here, I'm going to stir up the fire a bit."

"Oh."  He leaned back once more, summoning his patience. He'd never guessed Davy could be so inventive, or so diabolical. "I'm not going to keep my eyes closed for more than an hour, Mr. Archer."

"Wouldn't think of asking you to, Mr. Marshall."  He climbed back into bed, laying a hand on Will's shoulder. "I'd just been thinking about one of my favorite parts of your body, and where it was most recently, and I thought...this is going to be warm, Will, I held it over the fire."

Will yelped as warmth and moisture settled over his cock, but it was really very comfortable. "Just the washrag," Davy assured him. "I thought it might be unkind to make you wait while I ordered a bath."

"Th—-thank you." He hoped that the washing-up was a hint of things to come, and gave a quick thanks to whatever random gods looked after misbehaving sailors that Davy was cleanly in his habits.

He was also developing into the world's worst cock-tease, wrapping the wet cloth around the distressed organ and squeezing it not-quite hard enough. "Do you know, Will, I think this damned thing gets bigger every time.

"It's going to be big as a nine-pounder by the time you're done with it." 

"It's going to be smaller than it is now when I'm done with it!" Davy retorted. He must have laid the cloth aside, because both his hands were playing over Will's chest and belly. "I wonder why you have such a little bit of hair up here ... and so much way down ... here."

"To attract your curiosity, I imagine."  He rolled just a little to the left, leaning against his lover, flank to knees. "It's very strange that you find such fascination in a scarecrow like me."

Davy chuckled a little but did not move away; instead he gathered Will's balls up in one hand, stroking the underside lightly with the tips of his fingers, while the other hand roamed across his chest.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Will. I suppose you might have been a scarecrow when you were fourteen or so—" 

"Thirteen."

"But I'll wager you've not looked at yourself since then." Davy swooped down and placed a quick kiss on Marshall's belly; his cock leapt but was ignored yet again. "You've filled out as well as any man could ask. Look at—no, don't you look at these legs, I'll do it."  His hands started at the hipbones, flowed down smoothly over thighs and calves. "You could pose for statuary, but I've never seen a statue so fine. Roll over?"

"Davy—"

"Only for a moment, I like this side of you far too well to let it be." Davy waited until he had grumblingly rolled over, then laid himself full-length upon Will's back. The hot weight of his cock rested in the cleft of Will's arse, and for an instant, as Davy caught a breath and clutched at him, he thought the game must have reached its end.

But Davy recovered his control, and lifted himself up and off. "You see what I mean, Will?"  His voice was shaky. "You are so very beautiful..."  His hands swept down Will's spine, coming to rest on his buttocks, circling with gentle pressure before they moved down his legs, and up again.

His touch set a fire that spread up and in, filling Will and driving him into the bedclothes. "Davy, please...I cannot do anything about your delusions, but if I lie this way another moment—"

"You are an impatient rogue, Mr. Marshall. Roll over, then, and I'll hold the thought of your fine stern in my mind's eye."

"Hold anything you like," Will said as he reversed his heading. "And see if you can't extend the same courtesy to me."

"Soon," Davy promised.  He slipped an arm beneath Will's neck and pulled him into a kiss as he lay atop him, both their bodies quivering involuntarily as their cocks rubbed together. "Is that better?"

"Much!"

"What would you like now?" Davy whispered. "To take me?  Or be taken?  Or I could use my hands…or my mouth...or we could just stay like this for a time."

Riding on a wave of exquisite pleasure, Will found he could not think, and Davy's hot breath in his ear did not make things any easier. It all sounded wonderful, felt wonderful, and he realized it mattered not at all. "Whatever you like."

He felt the low rumble of Davy's laughter against his chest. "Mr Marshall, I do believe you're overwhelmed."

"I believe you're right, you ravisher."

"Oh, you want ravishing?  Happy to oblige!"  Davy nipped the edge of his shoulder, then shifted so he was fastened hungrily on one nipple while he pinched the other. Will arched up, restraint abandoned as he clutched at Davy's shoulders. But his lover worked himself loose, kissing his way downward, until his mouth closed around Will's throbbing cock.

But Davy wasn't quite finished. As Will thrashed against the pillow, he felt Davy's body over him once again, and realized that there was a pendant weight against his face, a persistent nudge against his lips.

He didn't really know what he was doing; Davy was driving him mad and when he opened his own mouth and took Davy's cock into it only his lover's cry, resonating around his own organ, told him that whatever he was doing, it must be right. He had that brief, curious sensation he sometimes felt with Davy—that he was part of one larger being, that whatever he was doing he was really doing to himself—and then they were both rocking, shivering, holding and thrusting, until at last the storm passed and Davy rolled off to one side, then crept up to burrow into his shoulder.

"My God," Will said.

"That's quite a promotion," Davy murmured drowsily.

For awhile neither of them spoke, but Will could not suppress the anxiety growing within him, and at last he found the right words. "Davy, that was...astonishing. But was it—do you —"

"Speak, thou apparition!" Davy said without opening his eyes. "Will, whatever is the matter?"

"Do you mean we should do all that every time?"

He thought Davy was coughing until the sound resolved into giggles. "Of course not, you ass! There's not always time—and I like hard and fast."

"Oh. Good."

Another long silence.

"But you did like it this other way, as well?"

"Loved it," Davy said, following the words with a prodigious yawn.

"Good." Will pulled the blanket up, and wrapped his arms around his shagged-out lover. "Because next time it's my turn."

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